


Risk Mitigation

by oisugasuga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Boss/Employee Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, M/M, One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisugasuga/pseuds/oisugasuga
Summary: "Listen, Oikawa-san," Suga started when the silence started to grow a little too large for comfort. He couldn’t keep staring at Oikawa’s puppy-dog face or he didn’t know what he’d actually end up saying."Don’t call me that," Oikawa snapped again. "It makes me sound like my father."Suga sighed. "Okay, fine. Oikawa… whatever happened last weekend, we should forget about it, okay? It was unprofessional and we both had too much to drink. That's all."
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 83
Kudos: 197





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> started this a while ago bc i love the idea of office au oisuga uwu hope u guys enjoy ✨ 
> 
> i'll be adding a chapter every week so stay tuned (or trying to as i'm currently in the midst of moving to the city and starting a new job ∗˚(* ˃̤൬˂̤ *)˚∗ but since i have 6 of the 7 chapters done already, it'll be a good chance to give "parallel" and "getting to know you" a semi-hiatus until i'm more settled)

"Oikawa-san," Suga hissed through his teeth the moment the door closed behind him and two warm hands were on his shoulders. "Just because we -"

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that," Oikawa grumbled, all the while fitting Suga up more tightly against his office door. Suga tipped his head back and glared. He tried to ignore how Oikawa smelled this morning… a pleasant mix of coffee and cologne.

He tried to ignore how easy it would be to lean up and catch Oikawa’s lower lip between his own -

"You’re my boss, Oikawa- _san_ ," Suga answered sweetly, forcing his thoughts onwards instead of downhill. "And just because we -"

Oikawa fluttered his eyelashes and oh, that wasn’t fair at all. He made no move to come any closer but that face — well, Suga knew _Oikawa_ knew all too well what that face did to him.

"Just because we what, hmm, Kou-chan? Just because of last weekend? Is that what you were going to say? Because if I remember correctly, that night was initiated by _you_ … and so was the next morning before I left…"

Suga stomped on his foot.

Oikawa let go with a whine, limping backwards. Suga nearly smiled at the _pout_ the grown-ass man in front of him was wearing, but he kept a straight face and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ouchhh," Oikawa snarled. "Mean, Sugawara. That was -"

"You were asking for it," Suga stated bluntly.

Oikawa shot him another watery-eyed glare and then turned to hobble around his big desk to sit in the wing-backed chair behind it, muttering under his breath. Suga sighed at the other’s dramatics. He hadn’t stomped _that_ hard.

"So what did you actually call me in here for?" he asked, moving to lean a hip against the front of the desk. God, he envied Oikawa of his windows in here — they seemed to look out over the entire city and today was perfect. It was the kind of weather Suga wanted to go home to so he could curl into bed and finish his latest murder mystery novel — overcast and damp, the threat of rain hanging tenaciously in the heavy air.

Oikawa didn’t answer.

Suga tore his eyes away from the view and then startled a little at the look his boss was leveling at him over the wood.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"I can’t walk," Oikawa stated petulantly. "And I didn’t call you in for anything. I just wanted to -"

"You just wanted to ambush me at the door because we slept together a grand total of two times last weekend?" Suga finished, smiling wryly. Boy, he was never drinking near Oikawa again — because boy, Oikawa had been embarrassingly right with his earlier remark.

Suga had been the one to initiate… _whatever_ had gone down between them last Saturday night. Sunday morning too. His cheeks threatened to burn right now just remembering how easily he had given in to his… baser needs.

In his defense, it had been the weekend after a big job had finished successfully, Suga had had a little too much to drink, and Oikawa had been right there — pretty and arrogant and everything Suga had promised himself never to get involved with.

Only he had. He had gotten involved with _everything_ Oikawa had to offer. It didn’t help that they’d spent the last year flirting with each other at company events over glasses of champagne, winding each other up and firing jabs at department meetings, choosing each other as partners every time they held work holiday parties and there was a game to play against their sister industry across town.

Oikawa scowled at the words now, crossing his arms over his chest. His tie hung too loose around his neck, a silk thing made up of alternating colors, diamond-shaped. Suga’s fingers itched to fix it.

"Rude, Kou-chan. I just wanted to talk. I didn’t _ambush_ you," Oikawa defended and Suga actually couldn’t help it this time. He laughed.

Oikawa watched him through narrowed eyes. Suga laughed harder.

"It’s not funny," Oikawa complained and Suga got his face under control again, shifting to sit a little on the edge of Oikawa’s desk. He didn’t miss Oikawa’s eyes, following the movement.

"Sorry," Suga apologized. He didn’t know if he actually meant it but he said it regardless. It seemed to appease Oikawa’s irritation a little at least, his brow smoothing out. He looked like a little kid for a moment — sitting in a chair too big for him, eyes large and bright and that annoyingly soft mouth curled down at the edges in uncertainty.

Suga cursed Oikawa’s good looks silently.

"Listen, Oikawa-san," Suga started when the silence started to grow a little too large for comfort. He couldn’t keep staring at Oikawa’s puppy-dog face or he didn’t know what he’d actually end up saying. 

"Don’t call me that," Oikawa snapped again. "It makes me sound like my father."

Suga sighed. "Okay, fine. _Oikawa_ … whatever happened last weekend, we should forget about it, okay? It was unprofessional and we both had too much to drink."

There was a beat of silence. Oikawa just stared at him, eyes unreadable. Suga stared back, defiant but definitely feeling like he could’ve made that argument just a little bit stronger now that he was finished talking. Why hadn’t he just ended it last Sunday again?

Oh right. He’d been too _preoccupied_ to remember something as important as setting boundaries. Both of them had and Suga shook himself inwardly for their joint stupidity.

"Unprofessional," Oikawa finally repeated, breaking Suga from his inner turmoil. His voice was flat and unimpressed. " _That’s_ what you’re going with? At least make me _believe_ you regretted it, Suga-chan. Come on, use something a little more… oh, I don’t know. Harsh? Try saying it was a mistake instead. Come on, spit it out, don’t be shy."

Suga tilted his chin at Oikawa’s sneer but he kept his cool, eyes narrowing just a bit. A sugar-sweet smile found its way to his face by habit.

Oikawa sat back in the chair and even though everything about his posture was lazy and laid-back, Suga could tell he wasn’t. He was braced. He was waiting for Suga to repeat his words back to him, like a slap to the face. That little cruel twist to his lips only emphasized his discomfort, underneath it all.

Suga wondered if Oikawa knew that he could see right through it, the facade. He wondered what the other man was thinking, right now, as Suga hesitated for a moment.

The thing was, Suga _had_ considered that night a mistake. 

He had woken up the next morning to find his cheek pressed to a bare chest and _Oikawa Tooru_ ’s naked limbs wrapped around him and he had felt his stomach drop. Fragments of the night had come back in terrifying clarity despite being stained at the edges with the influences of alcohol — he had remembered excessive flirting, someone telling them to _"get a room, my God"_ , and then Oikawa’s mouth on his outside the bar… insistent and hot and just as sweet with chasers as his own. 

He had remembered getting a cab and not being able to keep his hands off of Oikawa the entire way back to Suga’s apartment, swallowing Oikawa’s noises in the gloom of the backseat and digging his fingers into the muscle of Oikawa’s thigh…

… and after that it had been Oikawa’s lips on the back of his neck, telling him to hurry up with the lock as Suga fumbled with the key. It had been stumbling in attached to each other and not bothering to turn the lights on because Suga wasn’t letting go for a moment. It had been the smell of cologne and sugary alcohol and sweat and then a mind-bending heat everywhere — building and building and building with Oikawa’s hands wandering and Suga’s lips bruised and nothing but pleasure owning every inch of his skin as they fell into bed together, clothes lost somewhere between the front door and there.

Until Suga had woken up the next morning.

Then it had been a cold sweat and nausea and a head-splitting hangover… and regret. So much regret.

Until… until he had taken painkillers, had coffee, and then run into Oikawa fresh out of the shower — warm and dark-eyed and unbelievably pliant and soft the moment Suga had kissed him without thinking first.

Suga hadn’t even managed to get Oikawa back into his bedroom… they’d just wound up on his tiny couch in his living room that time.

Suga took a deep breath in the present, shaking himself from his thoughts with a little willpower. He focused on Oikawa’s iron gaze and he felt the words well up in his throat.

_"It was a mistake, Oikawa-san. We shouldn’t be involved with each other. I don’t trust you completely and you’ll soon realize I’m not the kind of person you want either. We’ll break each other’s hearts."_

Only they didn’t come.

Suga sat there, on the edge of Oikawa’s desk, as they stared each other down and he couldn’t force those four simple sentences up his tight throat.

"I have work to do," is what left his lips instead. Suga’s heart skipped an odd beat in his chest, hearing it out loud.

Oikawa’s eyes flickered to surprised at the same time. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that as much as Suga hadn’t decided to say it and he opened his mouth… but Suga had already done too much and not enough at the same time so he stood up before Oikawa could say anything.

He stood up before Oikawa could reel him back in with his voice.

"Have a good day, Oikawa- _san_ ," Suga threw over his shoulder, walking quickly to the door. He felt a hot flush of shame cover the back of his neck despite the cool discipline of his tone.

God damn it. He should’ve said what Oikawa had told him to. He should’ve said it was a mistake and he should’ve forgotten about everything after, washing the memories down the bathroom sink with cold water.

The thing was, he hadn’t…

… and the entire time after — right up until Oikawa’s office door closed behind him with a sharp click — Suga couldn’t shake the feeling of Oikawa’s eyes on him — a heavy gaze pressed flat, right between Suga’s shoulder blades.

Suga sighed and slumped against the door once it had shut and he ignored the sharp look Oikawa’s secretary thew him from a few feet away. Iwaizumi Hajime was probably wondering if he’d been fired, Suga thought with a sort of grim humor.

He probably looked like he had been, in all honesty. 

Suga straightened up and smoothed out his wrinkle-free tie and then marched past Iwaizumi’s desk with a curt nod, heading for the elevators to go back down to his cubicle. He wanted coffee. He wanted to get his latest project done so he could get Kiyoko-san off his back.

Most of all though, as the elevator dinged and opened and Suga stepped inside… he wanted to know why he hadn’t been able to say the right thing.

Suga stared at his face in the elevator mirrors, watching the way the harsh lighting turned his hazel-brown eyes to deep, dark pools… watching the way it made his beauty mark stand out in stark resolution.

Oikawa had had an odd fascination with that mark, Suga remembered vaguely then, side-tracking. He remembered the other man’s words in his ear — low and wanting — the butterfly-wing brush of his lips against Suga’s cheekbone — once and twice, countless times…

_Would you stop? God._ Suga shook his head and cleared his throat.

He backtracked. 

He hadn’t been able to say the words to end it all. He had done the worst thing he could’ve done actually. He had given Oikawa hope and now… 

Well now, Suga thought wryly, blinking when the elevator stopped and opened onto the sickly yellow glow of his own floor…

Now, he was screwed.


	2. Tuesday

"What do you mean you _can’t_ go up there?

Suga winced, choking a little on his watered-down, oily, crap coffee. Kiyoko-san already sounded peeved.

He sighed, placed his chipped mug in the communal sink, and turned around. The break room smelled like overcooked tuna and there was a large water stain the size of Suga’s head seeping over a few ceiling tiles to the right… and Kiyoko Shimizu stood like an avenging angel in the middle of it all. Her glasses caught the lights. Her hands were on her hips.

"Let me reword that," Suga tried. "I _won’t_ go up there."

Kiyoko’s face remained impassive. Suga felt his confidence crumble just a little bit… 

… then a little more when Kiyoko spoke again, her soft voice wrapped around glass-tipped words.

"Oh? And why not, Sugawara- _san_? Am I missing something? Do you _want_ to be fired?"

Suga shivered. His floor manager sure could be terrifying when she wanted to be. Now he was beginning to understand why Ennoshita-san was always hiding out in the bathroom stall after lunch.

"Oikawa-san doesn’t actually need anything important," Suga muttered in a last-ditch effort. He hated how whiny he sounded. "And I’m not his messenger boy. I have actual work to finish."

He heard his own voice grow quieter under Kiyoko’s wilting look. Her eyes burned into him. Suga was running out of excuses.

So he did the only thing left to do.

He used the last ghostly shreds of his bravery and blurted out what was really going to cause an uproar — the bombshell he had been hiding up until she’d cornered him in here. 

She was going to find out anyway, sooner or later… and Suga would rather die here bravely on the battlefield than cower in his cubicle like a traitor.

"BesidesIsentTobiototakecareofit."

Suga basically spat the words out, a jumbled mess of nonsense, and then held his breath, waiting… waiting… 

There were exactly two beats of pure, complete silence afterwards.

Then Kiyoko lunged.

Suga shrieked and dodged… and somehow escaped her grasping fingers. He made it to the break room door, shoving past a very startled Ennoshita on the other side as he burst through it.

"Sugawara Koushi, come back here right now! Are you trying to get me FIRED???"

Kiyoko’s enraged voice followed after Suga as he sprinted down his floor, his leather shoes squeaking against linoleum when he skidded by the restroom doors.

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH??!!"

Suga really wasn’t sure if Kiyoko meant a death wish because _she_ was going to murder him or Oikawa was. Neither was good. Either was very, very possible.

Yeah, maybe sending Tobio had been a very, very bad idea… but Suga wasn’t going to come running for every beck and call from his boss anymore.

Especially not after yesterday.

He knew what would happen. Oikawa was calling him for something "important" according to Iwaizumi-san’s phone call — which really just meant that he was going to corner Suga again and they were going to have the same conversation again and Suga was going to say the wrong things… _again_.

Sending Tobio had been a power move if anything. A royal middle finger to Oikawa-san in his plush, amazing-views office. Suga was kind of proud of himself.

Except not right now. He wasn’t feeling too proud at this moment.

Panting, Suga careened into a nearby stairwell and then hunkered down behind the door, holding his breath.

"Uh… do I want to know what’s going on here?"

The voice came from behind Suga’s right shoulder and he whirled around, his heart up in his throat, beating like the frantic push and pull of the birds’ wings who were always sitting on the window ledges of the office…

… only to see Daichi holding a can of instant coffee and wearing a look of utter regret. Regret concerning becoming Suga’s best friend probably, Suga figured logically.

"Uh," Suga started. 

"Yes?" Daichi asked.

"SUGAWARA!" Kiyoko pterodactyl-screeched from somewhere outside the stairwell.

Daichi and Suga flinched simultaneously, both of their eyes snapping to the stairwell door… and then the sounds of war slowly faded in the opposite direction.

A few beats of silence passed. 

Finally, Suga breathed out shakily. Then he tried to smile winningly at Daichi.

"Actually, you know what?" Daichi said. "Never mind." He wore the look of a man who had seen too much but would rather deny anything had ever happened than ask.

"Good choice," Suga answered. He stood up, brushing off his work slacks. "Where were you? Visiting Michimiya-san on the third floor again?"

Daichi leveled Suga with a deadpan expression but Suga was too busy trying to scrape his pride back up off of the floor to notice much.

"No, actually, I wasn’t. I was upstairs talking to Iwaizumi-san. About you."

Suga choked on his own spit.

"Yeah," Daichi continued, taking a sip of his coffee and then crossing his arms over his broad chest. He looked infuriatingly smug. "It doesn’t sound too good when the CEO’s secretary is asking about a worker on the fifth floor, huh?"

Suga glared. "Just spit it out. What did he say?"

Daichi took his time. He sipped his coffee. He pretended to think. He was enjoying it, Suga could tell and Suga was about ready to punch him between the ribs when Daichi finally answered.

"It was really weird, actually," he offered. A door somewhere down below them opened and closed with a creaky squeak. The stairwell lights were an odd, faded yellow that smudged Daichi’s hideous orange, silk tie into something that reminded Suga of the color of the cheese-flavored corn-puff chips his own younger siblings loved. "He said he needed to know what your favorite type of flowers were."

Suga didn’t react. He couldn’t because his mind had gone blank and his palms were clammy and he was pretty sure that itch in his fingers was the urge to commit homicide. He was pretty sure he knew who the victim was going to be too.

For now though, Suga just stared Daichi down. Surely he was joking. Surely, _surely_ , that’s not what Iwaizumi-san had wanted to ask him…

"I’m not joking."

Suga squeezed his eyes shut and breathed very slowly through his nose. He was going to murder someone. Forget homicide. He was going to actually murder someone right now.

Daichi kept going, oblivious to Suga’s emotional dilemma.

"Yeah, he was pretty pissed too. Apparently Oikawa-san has had him running around like a chicken doing 'useless shit', to quote Iwaizumi-san. He called the CEO a 'cocky, petulant bastard' too. You should’ve been there to hear that. I mean I know they’ve known each other for a long time but sti- Koushi? Are you okay?"

"Dai, did you tell him what my favorite flowers are?" Suga asked his question in an eerily calm voice.

Daichi blinked. His warm brown eyes were confused. 

"Uh yeah. I was confused at first but then I figured that they were just planning for the company party coming up next month, remember? It’s garden themed or something, so it makes sense that they’re recording everyone’s preferences. Probably for the table toppers or -"

" _Everyone’s_ preferences?" Suga hissed, interrupting him. That was it. That was the final straw. Suga felt something snap inside him. "Did Iwaizumi-san ask about _your_ favorite flowers too?"

Daichi startled, caught off guard at the fire Suga could feel burning in his own eyes.

"Uh -," he started again but Suga was pacing now. He couldn’t believe this. He could _not_ believe this.

"When did Iwaizumi-san ask you?" Suga asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a terrible headache. 

"Koushi, what - Okay, okay, don’t look at me like that. Jesus. I went up there an hour and a half ago. We got sidetracked talking about…" 

Daichi paused then and Suga swore he saw the lightest of flushes dust the tops of his best friend’s cheeks but he was too absorbed in his own personal issues that he didn’t ask. He’d corner him later. There was a lot to unravel there and Suga didn’t have time right now.

"… other things," Daichi finished lamely.

"Right," Suga deadpanned before returning to his previous worries. Daichi sputtered and blushed harder. Yeah, Suga was definitely going to get him later…

… but right now he had started pacing again. He bit his lower lip, thinking hard. His palms were full-on sweating at this point.

An hour and a half ago, Daichi had said. Was that enough time to…

In the next moment, Suga’s worst fears came true. He didn’t even have time to finish his dreaded question.

"WOW! SUGA-SAN YOU HAVE FLOWERS! LIKE LOTS AND LOTS OF FLOWERS AND THEY’RE… THEY’RE LIKE BLAM AND WHOOSH AND -"

"Oy! Hinata! Shut up you dumbass! People are trying to actually get shit done in here!"

" _You_ shut up, Kageyama! No one asked you, stupid!"

Suga’s heart leaped into his mouth. He immediately pushed through the stairwell door — no longer caring if Kiyoko was still circling somewhere nearby — and made a beeline for his cubicle.

He saw Hinata and Kageyama first. The two of them were still bickering. Hinata was jumping up and down, his name-tag bouncing up around his face.

Kageyama looked more frazzled than usual, like one of those crows with its feathers ruffled. Suga winced inwardly. He _probably_ shouldn’t have sent his new trainee up to deal with Oikawa earlier but well, it was all said and done now. Now poor Hinata was paying the price…

… and Suga had bigger problems to handle by the looks of it.

"Suga-san!!" the orange-haired intern yelled the moment he saw Suga over Kageyama’s bristling shoulders. He pushed past a growling Tobio and was suddenly all up in Suga’s space. He smelled like cough drops and _"Oh,"_ Suga thought, _"poor thing"_ … he had clearly caught the cold going around the building because his eyes were all watery and his nose was an awful red.

"Hey, Shōyō," Suga said, tamping down his nerves. "What’s going on?"

Suga knew his voice sounded calm. After years of working in this business, he had a pretty good handle on how he came across to people in stressful situations. 

That didn’t mean his head wasn’t exploding on the inside.

_Please don’t be what I think it is. God damn it, I’m too soft. I should’ve just cut it off yesterday. I should’ve nipped the whole thing in the bud. Stupid. So stupid. Why did I_ sleep _with him?? I knew he was trouble the moment I met him. I knew I couldn’t give in to that - that stupid_ face _. He’s a classic heartbreaker. You’re going to get your heart broken, Sugawara Koushi and it’s going to be all your fault._

_But you’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?_ another voice in Suga’s head — one farther down that he’d been trying to ignore since the weekend — whispered. _That night. You wanted him._ _And yesterday… pfft, you say you don’t want to get involved but really, is that the truth? Why couldn’t you just say the words then? You know why. Because you didn’t really want to say it was a mistake. Because you didn’t want to forget or pretend like it didn’t happen or cut Oikawa out. You wanted to -_

Suga’s carousel-ride of thoughts was interrupted quickly by Hinata’s stuffy, raspy voice.

"Suga-san you’re never going to believe - I mean you have to see - it’s AMAZING and -"

Suga took a polite step back — he most definitely did not want to get sick — and nodded like he understood what Hinata was trying to tell him. Kageyama rolled his eyes so hard Suga thought they’d get stuck in his head. Suddenly, Daichi was there too, hovering over Suga’s shoulder.

"Can you distract him for a sec?" Suga muttered to Daichi out of the corner of his mouth, still trying to keep up with Hinata’s excited babbling. 

Daichi snorted softly but then complied, mentioning something offhand about a shadowing appointment Ushijima-san from the second floor was supposed to let Kageyama sit through the next morning… and Hinata’s bleary gaze immediately snapped from Suga’s face to his mentor’s, eyes lighting up with a terrifying brightness.

Suga edged past Hinata — who was now attracting a crowd Suga did _not_ need by rasping out hoarse cries of "JAPAN!!!" — and then stopped dead in the opening to his cubicle.

The prettiest smudges of violet laid… _everywhere_. _"Violet hydrangeas,"_ Suga’s brain offered helpfully.

His favorite flower.

They ranged from the deepest blushes of purple to the most delicate periwinkles, stained through with veins of cobalt… and they coated Suga’s cubicle like a garden in full bloom. 

"Holy _fuck_."

Suga didn’t even move towards Daichi’s voice. He just reached for his rolling desk chair and sank into it, putting his head in his hands.

There were a few more horrible beats of dead silence and then Daichi finally spoke again, making the tips of Suga’s ears flare even hotter.

"Well," Daichi said, voice wry and trying for joking, "I guess now we know they weren’t for the table toppers."

Suga made sure to count to a solid three before he lunged for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your girl has officially moved into the city and it's been a Lot
> 
> but editing this helped me deal with the homesickness this morning and i'll keep trying to post every week!
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated ⁽ ¨̮⁾⁽¨̮ ⁾*˚‧♡ and bc i forgot the last time, just a reminder that my blog can be reached [here](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)
> 
> next up: wednesday ft. an awkward café run-in


	3. Wednesday

Suga’s fate finally caught up with him during lunch on Wednesday afternoon.

He had spent most of Tuesday afternoon and that morning giving away the hydrangeas to anyone who would take them — which turned out to be most everyone on his floor — and by the time noon rolled around and Suga could actually see his computer again, he was starving.

Luckily there was a niche little bakery two streets over. They had coffee that could jumpstart an entire train and their scones with clotted cream were a godsend on busy days.

So, at a quarter till twelve, Suga scooped the last lingering petals and broken stems into his trash bin and left the office with a huge sigh of relief.

The weather was beautiful outside — sunny with lots of clouds gently scudding through the sky. Suga tilted his face up, breathed in deep, and then started walking.

He’d turned his phone off and left Daichi with strict instructions to not let his location slip to Iwaizumi — no matter how drool-worthy the other’s biceps were — so as he walked, Suga expected to be alone for the next hour.

When the bakery appeared around the corner and he walked into the air-conditioned space to the smells of freshly-baked bread and cooking sugar, he expected to be undisturbed...

... and even after Suga had ordered — black coffee with a side of those clotted cream scones — and sat down in a private little corner, he never even once thought about tousled brown hair or chocolate eyes or long, long legs clad in neatly-pressed business slacks.

Until he did...

... until Oikawa Tooru walked through the front door — every tall, lean, perfectly-styled inch of him. 

Suga choked on a bite of his food and then coughed loudly to dislodge the chunk of scone stuck in his throat… but luckily the tinkle of the bell covered it and Oikawa didn't glance in his direction. 

Instead he strolled up to the front counter, obviously oblivious to Suga’s presence... and so Suga snapped out of his frozen surprise as fast as he had entered it and scooted his chair over so that he was partially obscured by a large, potted fern by the windows. 

_You are_ shitting _me right now_ , he thought, half in disbelief and half in some kind of resigned acceptance of his fate. 

Why was Oikawa here? Why was he here in Suga’s favorite bakery? Had Daichi let _that_ slip to Iwaizumi too? Fucking _hell_ -

... but the longer Suga watched, the more he became certain that Oikawa didn’t know anything about Suga and the shop.

His boss was leaning against the counter to order — practically sprawled across it — and he made no move to turn in Suga’s direction nor search the bakery with a sweep of his eyes.

The seconds ticked by and Suga slowly relaxed, hidden behind his green curtain… until Oikawa glanced around while he waited to be serviced, tapping long fingers on the countertop.

Biting back a yelp, Suga sank lower into his chair, trying to hide his face behind his mug of coffee and peer over it at the same time. Thankfully one of the workers appeared from the back just then and Oikawa smiled and turned his attention back to the menu.

_I should go over there, line him out about those damned flowers_ , Suga thought, fingers flexing around the porcelain. 

But - but at the same time part of him wanted to stay here and just… watch.

So he did.

Suga watched Oikawa order something with a copious amount of batted eyelashes and flirting, laughing lightly at something the flustered barista said in return over flushed cheeks and red-tipped ears. Suga rolled his eyes.

Not that he could blame the worker for being so red in the face or anything. Oikawa tended to have that effect on people… and he really knew how to dial up the charm. Suga had wondered several times in the past if Oikawa practiced in the mirror at home or if he was just naturally a sweet-talker, born with a silver-tongue.

Suga sipped at his coffee lightly and couldn’t help but remember when those eyelashes had been aimed at him. They were so thick and long. Dark too — black ink strokes along pretty cheekbones. 

And boy, Oikawa knew how to peer up from beneath them perfectly. He knew how to just let a sliver of his liquid-bright, gold eyes melt from between those eyelashes. He know how to tease, how to tempt, how to make a person feel like they were the only ones who got to see that ragged copper behind all of that black...

... but… but those eyes weren’t always just narrowed and seductive.

Suga had a sudden flashback, like sunlight glinting off of a passing car through the windows.

He saw Oikawa’s face that morning — _the_ morning — soft cheek resting against Suga’s pillowcase. His eyes had been closed and those eyelashes had fluttered… but with dreams not intentions. 

Oikawa had looked so peaceful — soft, damp mouth just barely parted, face slack and unguarded. 

Innocent. Young. Vulnerable.

Suga realized he was biting his lower lip at the memory, teeth sinking in deep. He shook himself out of it, took another sip of bitter caffeine. 

_He’s not innocent_ , he reminded himself, thinking now of hot hands and that voice murmuring dark, sugary things into Suga’s ear. _And he’ll break your heart, Koushi. You know that._

_But do you really?_

The question took Suga by surprise, even if he had been the one to think it. He chewed on it for a moment… for reasons he refused to delve deeper into. He was just tired… or maybe he was bored and this was the saddest excuse his brain could come up with to entertain himself.

Still…

He didn’t _really_ know Oikawa, he guessed. Suga ticked through the list in his head.

He knew Oikawa liked his coffee sweet and full of cream… that one was recent. Suga had just heard him order. 

Besides that he knew Oikawa had smelled like sandalwood under the stench of alcohol that night and that he snored, but lightly. He knew he had worked his way to the top in a very short amount of time, such a young CEO. He knew that Iwaizumi-san was one of Oikawa’s oldest friends… since childhood apparently if Tanaka knew what he was talking about.

Suga’s brows furrowed. He also knew Oikawa was known for the gaggle of "fans" that seemed to constantly be following his radiance — stalking him to corporate events and following him by the thousands on social media. 

He knew he had never seen Oikawa with someone for more than a few months, if that.

He knew…

"Thank you! Enjoy your coffee!"

Suga’s eyes snapped back to Oikawa just in time to see Oikawa take his order and receipt and turn…

… right towards Suga in his poorly-chosen hiding spot.

Suga inhaled, caught off guard as brown eyes caught his and then did a double-take. Naked surprised flashed over Oikawa’s face and he paused comically, one foot in front of the other.

_So he hadn’t know then_ , Suga thought, sparing Daichi’s life in his mind as he crumpled up his plan for gentle homicide. 

His next thought — about whether smashing through the window to escape would end with his ass in jail — barely made it through his head before Oikawa straightened, appearing to get over his surprise quickly.

Suga stayed rooted in place, even as his boss approached him. There was nowhere to go anyway. 

Besides, Suga's break would be over soon. He had just enough time to line Oikawa out about all of those damned flowers and the uproar it had caused — really, Hinata and Tobio were supposed to be learning about markets and stocks... not delivering flower bunches around the office like Spring elves — before he had to go back...

At the first sound of Oikawa’s voice though, Suga knew something had changed.

"Sugawara-san," Oikawa greeted politely and Suga blinked, momentarily taken aback. Oikawa _never_ used honorifics.

"Oikawa-sa-," he began slowly and then stopped at the flash in Oikawa’s eyes. " _Oikawa_ ," Suga corrected, still confused by the odd formality that had seemed to settle over his table and reminded him of red lipstick and fake laughs, business deals. Plastic. "How are you?"

Oikawa’s face was still oddly serious and it disconcerted Suga more than he had realized it would so he gestured to the chair opposite him without thinking, dropping a, "Sit down, if you want," before he could think better of it.

Oikawa’s eyes flickered again but it was... softer this time. More surprise maybe, but he was obviously pleased too. 

Suga bit his tongue and cursed himself inwardly.

_Don’t give him hope_ , he thought. _That would be cruel._

Still, Suga found himself more at ease the moment Oikawa folded his long limbs into the wooden chair and set his order down on the table. Maybe it was because Oikawa was no longer towering over him with those endless legs of his. It was disconcerting sometimes, how large Oikawa seemed. 

"Thank you," Oikawa said the next time he spoke and Suga nodded in affirmation and then there was quiet.

It stretched.

If Suga had been expecting Oikawa to smirk and tease — or lean forward and demand a bite of Suga’s pitiful excuse for lunch — it didn’t come. Oikawa was... _quiet_.

_What the hell is going on?_ Suga found himself wondering, bewildered. "Quiet" had never really fit into Oikawa’s extensive vocabulary.

"Supercilious", maybe. Or "moxie".

But not "quiet".

"Um, so, do you come here often?" Suga decided to ask, avoiding the elephant sitting smack-dab in the middle of their tiny table. He mentally face-palmed at his phrasing but kept his features geared in neutral.

Oikawa licked his lips and nodded. He wasn’t even looking Suga in the face. Now Suga was truly becoming alarmed.

Had something happened? Something at work? Was Oikawa okay-

"I’msorryabouttheflowers."

The clatter of Oikawa’s coffee as he sat it down quickly punctuated the train-wreck of words that suddenly burst from between his lips. 

Suga sat, stunned. The girl behind the counter glanced over at them and then resumed organizing fruit tarts in the glass display... though Suga caught her eyes still sneaking peeks over in poorly-disguised interest.

Oikawa looked mortified. Another word Suga would’ve never dreamed to associate him with.

Then again… then again, he had never expected Oikawa to look so soft either... and he had. He had looked so soft and peaceful that morning. Even later on, when Suga had kissed him by the couch, he had tasted like Suga’s own toothpaste and he had smelled like Suga’s shampoo and…

"You’re sorry -," Suga started, clearing his throat when his voice rasped like sandpaper and then trying again. "You’re sorry about what? I’m sorry. I just - I didn’t really catch -"

Oikawa sighed and then pouted and there it was, finally. There he was, surfacing from the odd awkwardness that hung over both of them. Like finding a weirdly-shaped chocoball in a box of perfectly-round candy. 

Suga sighed a bit in relief on the inside. 

"I said," Oikawa mumbled into his mug, eyes darting everywhere but Suga’s gaze, "that I’m sorry about the flowers."

It took Suga a moment to comprehend...

When he did, he bit his lip to keep from laughing. Jeez, and to think he’d thought something major was wrong.

When he didn’t answer Oikawa right away, the other finally glanced at him and then frowned when he saw Suga’s poorly-concealed amusement. His lower lip jutted out like a child’s.

"Kou-chan, don’t laugh at me."

"Oh thank _God_ ," Suga couldn't help but blurt finally. "For a moment there I thought you were going to call me Sugawara-san again." 

Oikawa’s pout grew further.

_Cute_ , Suga thought unwillingly.

"Kou-chan, I’m apologizing and you’re making fun of me," Oikawa half-whined, full-on scowling now. It was more than amusing, Suga wondered at, watching a grown-ass man in a business suit and expensive watch pout like a baby. Endearing almost.

Maybe he really had been staring at spreadsheets too long today. The fuzzy feeling in his chest was weird and annoying. Affectionate in an alarming sort of way.

Suga schooled himself back into professional as best he could.

"Why’re you apologizing?" he asked, tapping the tines of his fork over the edge of his plate. "You only sent me an entire flower shop in front of the entire fifth floor. I thought Hinata was going to have an asthma attack from the sheer excitement of it all."

Suga heard the dry wryness to his own tone but when he saw it register on Oikawa’s pretty face he realized that maybe he hadn’t been the only one to say something to him like that.

"I know," Oikawa mumbled, voice dropping low again. He suddenly seemed very interested in the lace-scalloped edge of the tablecloth. He was sulking, confirming Suga’s suspicions further.

"Who told you?" he asked lightly, trying not to seem like he was digging too much. If Daichi had gone up to say something on Suga’s behalf, he may have just won back his best friend rights to Suga’s snack drawer in his apartment.

But Oikawa chewed on his lower lip and then bit out, "Iwa-chan. He said I was doing it all wrong, trying to woo you -"

_Wait, what??_

Oikawa’s eyes flickered up to Suga’s, as startled as Suga's thoughts. It was like Oikawa had just realized what he’d been about to say so he cleared his throat loudly and unnecessarily and then spoke quickly to cover it up.

Except that it was a little too late for that.

"He said I was an idiot. That I’d probably embarrassed you in front of everyone and that I was being too obnoxious. That a one-night stand didn’t mean you wanted to - to -"

Oikawa stuttered off again and this time, Suga was the one studying the lace detail to avoid looking directly at him. His cheeks burned.

"Oh," he managed. 

"Yeah," Oikawa muttered weakly.

_Woo you_ , Suga heard again in his head. That’s what Oikawa had just said… although maybe a little by accident. The idea set Suga’s heart to a weird stuttering in his chest, like fireworks trying to go off underwater.

"Um," Suga tried again. "Well, I mean, the way to a guy’s heart isn’t exactly through bombarding him with lavish, outrageous gifts. Not for me anyway."

That was _not_ what he had wanted to say or the direction he wanted to go.

Suga felt Oikawa glance up in surprise and for some reason his stupid mouth decided to keep going, babbling away.

"Maybe for someone like you it is. You’d probably be over the moon if I sent you a truckload of that damned milkbread you eat all the time."

Oikawa made a little noise of surprise and indignation — a little strangled — but still Suga plowed on. Good God. Why couldn’t he shut up? This was beginning to feel a little like that moment he had kissed Oikawa in his living room. A mistake.

"But you know, I’m a simpler dude." An awkward laugh, forced out once again by Suga’s horrible, word-vomiting mouth. Dude. He’d actually said the word "dude". 

That didn't really matter though... not when Suga finally dealt the final kicker — one final, ridiculous line to put the metaphorical cherry on top of his shit sundae.

"Buy me junk food and cuddle me to watch gory zombie movies and I’m yours."

The lace scalloping was really quite lovely as Suga drilled his gaze firmly into it.

_Holy fuck_ , his brain kept chanting. _Holy, holy fuck._

The silence that rang out over the two of them the moment Suga snapped his mouth closed — too late, obviously — was absolutely deafening.

Then… "You know I like milkbread?"

Suga’s eyes finally tore away from the tablecloth to find Oikawa blinking at him with slightly parted lips and cheeks just barely flushed at the tops. He looked a little dazed.

Suga felt a little fucked. He was so, so fucked. 

He couldn’t even answer. His throat was too dry and his ears were on fire and he was pretty sure the barista had overheard the entire, embarrassing ordeal and all his brain could really do was melt to mush and remind him that Oikawa Tooru — his CEO — had said two minutes ago that he was trying to "woo" him.

_Would that be so bad?_ some traitorous voice in his head asked. _It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? To stop running for a change and let someone, even Oikawa, close. To let him try._

Suga got up and his chair slid behind him with a screech. He had lost his head. That’s it. He had lost his entire mind for even entertaining the idea of letting Oikawa keep doing whatever… _this_ was.

"Koushi," Oikawa started, startled. His eyes were wide — probably from Suga’s weird, rambling, flustered speech — and for some reason, when Suga caught them with his, all he could see was Oikawa’s gaze.

It was surprised. Warm too, under that… like the gold in Oikawa’s chocolate-brown eyes had melted and spread to every little bit of his irises. Familiar and pretty and - and - hopeful.

Suga had once again, said the wrong thing. It seemed like it was his destiny to always say the wrong thing… to give Oikawa hope where Suga knew there was none.

So he did the only thing he could to avoid his fate.

He abandoned his half-eaten lunch and coffee on the table and he left it and Oikawa behind — the bell on the door tinkling to signal his hastily departing steps away from it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a week late (cause last week was a blur of work, a date night i had to phone a friend to get out of lol, and going out to destress) but hope you guys enjoy chapter 3! 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are appreciated! i love getting constructive feedback from you guys even if this is just a short little thing i typed up in my spare time and not one of my more serious fics
> 
> you can reach my blog (dedicated to oisuga) [here](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/) ♥
> 
> next up: thursday and an iwadai intervention


	4. Thursday

"Honestly, Suga, you can’t stay in there forever."

Suga glared firmly at the ugly, yellowed tile floor of the men’s bathroom and refused to answer Daichi’s warm, coddling tone.

There was a sigh. A shift as Daichi probably settled his weight to his other foot to wait out Suga’s temper-tantrum.

Then the door to the bathroom squeaked as someone else entered and Suga heard a softer voice filter lightly over the stall door.

"You asked for me, Sawamura-san?"

_Yamaguchi_ , Suga thought, momentarily broken from his staring battle with the lavatory floor. _Why’d Daichi call for -_

Daichi sighed again. Suga rolled his eyes. Honestly, his best friend was being a little dramatic. Just because Suga wanted to sulk in here for the next two days until the weekend didn’t mean Daichi had to summon their entire floor to get him out.

"Yes, thank you, Tadashi. Could you please run and get me Iwaizumi-san? Tell him we have a situation involving Dumb and Dumber in the fifth-floor restroom."

"Dumb and -," Suga heard Yamaguchi stutter and then trail off, obviously as lost as Suga himself felt. Suga straightened up where he was leaned against the stall wall and frowned. "O-okay. I’ll be right back."

There were light footsteps and then the door swung open and shut again. Silence pushed in from all sides.

Suga bit his lip, tried to stay quiet a moment longer, and then couldn’t keep the words in any longer.

"Daichi," he growled out. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"Staging a much-needed intervention," came the automatic, dry reply. 

Suga jutted his lower lip out and stewed in silence, not sure what to say to that. Was Daichi referring to yesterday? Is that why he’d called for Iwaizumi? Suga’s heart jumped to his throat.

"What do you mean?" Suga finally settled on, tapping a shoe on the floor and crossing his arms over his chest. He sounded whiny to his own ears, and petulant. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have called Daichi last night, drunk on some whiskey in his cabinet, to wallow in despair over yesterday’s horrible, horrible lunch encounter with Oikawa… but it was obviously too late for regrets. He had already spilled everything in his drunken stupidity about Oikawa to Daichi besides one tiny, little detail.

There was a light laugh on the other side of the door. Suga’s scowl deepened. _Yeah_ , he thought. He _definitely_ shouldn’t have.

"Maybe if you come out and face me instead of skulking in here like Ennoshita when Kiyoko-san is cracking the whip, I’d tell you."

"I’m not _skulking_ ," Suga snapped. He was starting to get a headache. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone and let him _sulk_ in silence?

"Skulking, sulking, being a big baby," Daichi rattled off, like he’d read Suga’s mind. "Whatever you want to call it, you’re avoiding your problems. You need to be running at them."

Suga scoffed and let his head rest back against the flimsy wall, staring up at a water-stained ceiling. "Gee, Dai, that’s good. You should get that on a t-shirt."

He knew he was being an ass… but Daichi hadn’t been his best friend all of these years to not know Suga’s different moods — the defensiveness when the smiling failed to hide the things bothering him. The shutdowns when things started getting a little too… real.

"I’ll do that," Daichi’s response came, calm and patient and infuriating. "As soon as you get it through your thick, stubborn skull. I know you, Kou. You never run."

Suga stayed silent. He wasn’t even going to rise to that piece of bait, all flattering and shiny. He was just going to stay here and pout until Daichi got fed up and left… which was like one percent likely to come true, but still.

The pipes groaned and leaked in the silence. Outside the thin bathroom door, Suga could hear the beep of printers and the whir of the air conditioning. He was left alone with his thoughts and Daichi’s low humming, like his best friend was on a fucking vacation and not currently babysitting a grown-ass man.

Yesterday had been an undeniable mess. Suga swallowed past the dryness of his throat, second-hand embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

Yet again, he had fucked up.

Even now — a day and a chipped mug of whiskey later — Suga remembered his three crucial mistakes from lunch yesterday.

He counted them out for the billionth time in his mind.

a. He had referred to himself as "dude" (Honestly, what the fuck)

b. He had openly admitted to knowing one of Oikawa’s guilty pleasures (Thank _God_ he had gone with milk bread — a well-known obsession around the company — and not something he had noticed during their night together… like Oikawa’s childlike fascination with the night sky)

c. And undoubtedly the biggest mistake of all… he had basically given Oikawa the green light to "woo" him

Suga thunked his head back against the stall door, squeezing his eyes closed. It wasn’t fair to Oikawa to keep him strung along like this… even if that wasn’t at all Suga’s intentions. He wan’t being fair to either of them and he was being an ass and even though all of that was true, Suga still didn’t know what to say to Oikawa or how to say it and -

_Why. Can’t. I. Just. Tell. Oikawa. No._

Suga punctuated each thought with a bang of his skull to the flimsy plastic. _Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Um, Koushi?" Daichi’s worried voice was closer now and then Suga saw the tips of well-kept leather loafers beneath the door… but before he could tell Daichi to just let him die here, the bathroom door squeaked open again and different footsteps entered the room.

_Fucking hell._

"You called?" 

Suga’s eyes flew open. That was undeniably Iwaizumi-san’s voice — deep and practical… so different from Oikawa’s giddy excitement or childish petulance sometimes but not so far away from Oikawa’s serious, business voice. Suga was beginning to see the little ways the two had rubbed off on each other over their supposed many years of friendship.

He was also beginning to question his own choice of best friend. Curse Daichi and his good intentions.

"Ah, Hajime," Suga heard his best friend answer and he paused, ears pricking with sudden interest. 

_Hajime?_ Since when had Daichi started calling Iwaizumi-san -

"Daichi," Iwaizumi responded and Suga’s jaw dropped. There was no way he was mishearing that tone of - of - _teasing_ in Iwaizumi’s strong voice. It was too unusual, amongst all of Iwaizumi’s usual scowling and cursing (normally just at Oikawa) to miss.

Suga really wished he could see Daichi’s face right now — because he had never heard him talk to Michimiya or even Kuroo (Daichi’s blatantly obvious university-days crush) like that — but that would mean stepping out of his sanctitude and then that would mean having to face not only his best friend, but Oikawa’s as well.

Which would inevitably mean having to talk to Oikawa himself.

Once more, Suga saw the other man’s face from yesterday — big brown eyes wide and surprised, red staining the tops of his pretty cheekbones, looking up at Suga with no mask or facade or stupid, fake smile. Just Tooru.

Thankfully, the image was dispelled by Daichi’s voice.

"Mm, yeah, um - well -," Daichi stuttered endearingly before seemingly getting a grip on himself. "I was just wondering if you also got a phone call last night from a certain someone drunk off their ass."

Suga peeled himself off of the sticky plastic, standing upright now. He scowled but stayed silent.

Whatever game Daichi was playing, Suga was not happy.

Still… the question surprised him. It hadn’t been at all what he’d expected Daichi to say — and Suga found himself listening intently for the answer.

"Yeah, funny enough. I did.”

Suga bit harder into his lower lip. What the hell were they getting at?

He wasn’t stupid. He knew they were talking about him and Oikawa. Suga was private about his personal life at work but he supposed when it came to his best friend, who he just so happened to work with, there were really no secrets. Apparently not between Oikawa and Iwaizumi-san either.

"Hmm," Daichi hummed, like they were discussing the goddamn weather. "And what did said person tell you?"

Suga rested his forehead against the stall door and it creaked. Daichi murmured something under his breath Suga couldn’t catch but he heard Iwaizumi make a noise of affirmation in his throat right after.

_Damn it_ , Suga thought. _Should I go out there? Stay here?_

Iwaizumi’s low voice was cutting across the room before Suga could truly decide. 

"Let’s just say said person is going too over the top, like I told the dumbas- _him_ already. He said he apologized… that he’s not good at that kind of thing -"

"What kind of thing?" Daichi interrupted smoothly but Iwaizumi didn’t miss a beat.

"Pursuing someone seriously," Iwaizumi answered, a hint of wry exasperation in his voice.

_God damn, they’ve rehearsed this_ , Suga thought darkly.

"He said that he’s afraid of screwing things up even more. Then he just dissolved into a drunken spiral about things like zombies and pizza and how he really, really wanted to kiss…"

Suga scrabbled to unlock the bathroom stall and then pushed the door open with a bang, stalking out.

Iwaizumi and Daichi were leaning casually by the sinks when Suga burst out, glowering.

"Okay, that’s enough," Suga hissed, hating how his voice cracked on the end. To his immense displeasure, neither of them looked particularly shocked.

Daichi just raised an eyebrow and Iwaizumi stared at him with an expression that gave away nothing, his dark brows straight along his forehead. 

Suga did take away one glorious fact from his sudden outburst — Daichi and Iwaizumi were wearing color-coordinated ties. It was most likely an accident but Suga stored the makeshift blackmail away for later.

"Hello, Sugawara-san," Iwaizumi said first, like he had had no clue Suga was lurking somewhere in one of the stalls. That wasn’t true. Suga could tell by the faint twitch of Iwaizumi’s lips, like he was trying really hard not to smile… if it hadn’t already been glaringly obvious by his and Daichi’s conversation.

Daichi looked worse though — lips pursed together like he was two seconds away from doubling over with laughter — so Suga nodded curtly at Iwaizumi and then swung his gaze towards his best friend.

"Oy, I don’t know what your master plan is, but ambushing me in the bathroom is a little low, don’t you think?"

Daichi sobered up a little, looking just the tad bit guilty. Suga felt a small twinge of victory.

"Koushi, we just want to help," Daichi said next and that kind of made Suga feel bad because he knew it was true. The little shred of satisfaction he had disintegrated as fast as it had come. Daichi, as if sensing it, continued.

"You two are beating yourselves up about the same thing."

"It’s not the same thing," Suga interrupted, voice quieter now. He crossed his arms over his chest. Hell, if they were just going to cut straight to the point, then so be it. "It’s not the same thing and you know it."

Daichi frowned but it was Iwaizumi who spoke up this time.

"Um, excuse the interruption, Sugawara-san -," he started and Suga’s eyes slid over to him.

"Suga," he said. Iwaizumi paused. "Just call me Suga," Suga re-stated. "Everyone does and Sugawara-san makes me sound like my -"

He stopped, bit his lip. Oikawa’s voice from before echoed behind his own words.

_"Don’t call me that. It makes me sound like my father."_

"Okay," Iwaizumi said. "Suga, I think I know what you’re struggling with. But it isn’t that different. Oikawa -"

It was the first time Oikawa’s actual name had been mentioned out loud between the three of them and Suga’s heart did a little, odd leap in his chest and his face burned slightly.

Iwaizumi continued. "Oikawa’s right. He’s not good at this kind of stuff. He overthinks things and sometimes he thinks that big gestures and hurtling forward are better than going slow and taking baby steps. I’m sure you’ve noticed."

Suga thought back to the flowers all over his desk, to the meeting they had had in Oikawa’s office. He nodded slowly. He was feeling more uncomfortable — more exposed — by the second, standing here talking to Iwaizumi-san in a public restroom about his love life… but he forced himself to stay quiet and listen.

Iwaizumi gave him a wry smile. Daichi stayed quiet, a gentle curve to his lips as he watched.

"Anyway, he’s always been like that. He treats everything in life like it’s a volleyball match. That’s how he got his position. That’s how he’s always gotten anything he’s wanted in life. So when you joined the company and he got to know you and he wanted to 'woo' you as he so eloquently puts it -"

Suga’s cheeks flared fully now.

"- he went about it the same way he would a game."

"We had a one-night stand," Suga blurted out before he could stop himself. Daichi looked startled, as Suga had expected given that _that_ was the tiny, little detail he had left out the night before. Iwaizumi just nodded, to Suga’s horror…

… but he kept going.

"That’s not enough -," Suga tried. He swallowed past the knot in his throat. "That’s not enough for him to know he wants to 'woo' me or pursue me or whatever you want to call it. It was just sex. And I - I keep giving him hope where there is none. I keep saying the wrong things and making him feel like it could work. But -"

"But what?" Daichi finally asked when Suga couldn’t finish his sentence and the silence stretched outwards, bending and warping under the ugly bathroom fluorescents. Suga felt mortified. His cheeks were burning.

"But it won’t work," Suga finished and the words were bitter on his tongue.

"Why not?" Daichi continued gently. 

Suga stared at the two of them, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. 

_Why not? Why couldn’t it work?_ The questions went around and around in Suga’s head.

He thought about Oikawa’s go-getter attitude, his brazen confidence, the way he handled business deals. Iwaizumi was right. Oikawa treated it all like a sports match…

… but he wasn’t always so rough and self-assured.

He was awkward and unsure and soft. Suga saw fluttering lashes over the fragile thinness of eyelids, a mouth slack and soft in sleep, the curl of dark hair against Suga’s own pillowcase… he thought of Iwaizumi’s words, of Oikawa’s insecurity and that damp fizziness in Suga’s chest grew a little stronger, a little more tangible… 

… and then Suga thought about how each time he felt it, it was a little harder to swallow down — fireworks blazing underwater.

"Kou, have you ever thought about why you’re so scared to try?"

Suga’s eyes flicked up to Daichi’s automatically, mouth stuck open on an unsaid word. He couldn’t answer.

So Iwaizumi did for him.

"You two are the same," he said simply. "You’re both afraid of failure. You just go about the game with different strategies."

Suga bit down on his lower lip so hard he was afraid it was going to start bleeding then and there… but he didn’t really feel it. His brain was too busy trying to catch up to what had just happened.

Iwaizumi had just dropped a bombshell on all of Suga’s predispositions and there was a mini-apocalypse going off within Suga’s head.

_You two are the same. You just go about the game with different strategies._

_Oh God_ , Suga thought with a hint of hysteria. _Why does that make some sort of sense?_

Daichi looked like a proud father when Suga finally tore his gaze away from Iwaizumi… 

… and the sight of it made Suga’s blood pressure spike suddenly. 

This wasn’t fair. Them cornering him in here and talking to him like this wasn’t _fair_. He needed to be alone. He needed some space and his former bathroom sanctuary now felt like it was getting smaller and smaller…

Sucking in a lungful of air, Suga forced a smile on his face, nodded at both Iwaizumi and Daichi, and said, "Thanks. I’ll keep all of this in mind," in the most polite, fake tone he could muster. He made sure to make it extra sweet, so that Daichi at least knew just how sarcastic he was being.

Then, at the bathroom door, Suga turned around with his fingers flat to the wood and cocked his head at the two of them still by the sinks. Daichi was frowning and Iwaizumi looked a little lost, like he wasn’t really sure whether to take Suga seriously or not.

Suga’s grin grew larger on his face. His parting words lingered on his tongue before they dropped and he relished in the feel of them.

"Oh, and you two look really cute by the way. What with the matching color schemes and all. The coordinating ties are a great couple look for you guys."

With great pleasure — and a genuine smile this time as his mischief hit home — Suga watched both men’s faces go cherry-red as his suspicions were made just a little bit stronger. Iwaizumi gaped. Daichi sputtered wordlessly. 

Suga winked — and then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him and leaving him with his thoughts… and that feeling in his chest that just wouldn’t fizzle out, no matter how hard he tried to make it.

A feeling that seemed to have gathered new life from a few simple words about a man afraid to fail.

A fear, Suga realized as he walked away frowning, that hit closer to home than he had originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays to all of my lovely readers, hope you guys enjoy the update! i love reading your comments so thank you for all of the feedback and love ♥ dw, suga'll get his shit together soon ;p
> 
> next up: fridayyy and an unexpected interruption
> 
> blog -> [click me](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)


	5. Friday

Suga couldn’t really believe he was about to do this…

… but Iwaizumi’s cursed words from yesterday afternoon were branded on the backs of Suga’s eyelids. He had tossed and turned over them all night — chewed them up and then spit them out again and then lost even more sleep.

_You two are the same. You’re both afraid of failure. You just go about the game with different strategies._

Suga cursed Iwaizumi quietly in his head while he punched a button on the instant coffee machine in the break room. Why did the other man have to be so… _perceptive_?

Why did he — and _Daichi_ — have to team up on Suga like that and make him think twice about everything he’d ever believed about Oikawa?

Growling under his breath, Suga grabbed the steaming styrofoam cup from the machine and popped a lid on top. Yamaguchi sat at the far wall with Yachi — a bright, if timid, young woman who always managed to make Aone-san from the basement smile in the most bewildering of miracles — and the two of them glanced over and then away quickly as Suga continued to grumble under his breath.

_You should at least talk it out with him._

Daichi’s parting words from his so-called “intervention” echoed through his head. His best friend had cornered him last night before Suga had left the office. He’d sat on Suga’s desk in his cubicle and blackmailed him with never buying Suga mapo tofu again if he walked out on him without listening.

_The audacity_ , a part of Suga still wondered at. _The absolute gall of that man, after cornering me in a bathroom stall._

… but, with a scowl and an ever-growing headache, Suga had stayed. In the end — after a long talk with Daichi — Suga had left the building to go home with a lot to think about…

… and that’s how he had ended up lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a mess of thoughts keeping him awake.

Oikawa was beautiful. Oikawa was arrogant. Oikawa was soft. Oikawa didn’t like commitment. 

Oikawa was afraid of failure… just like him.

Iwaizumi’s words had been the ones that had stuck around the most. Suga hadn’t been able to shake them — no matter how hard he had tried to talk himself out of it.

Morning had cracked up over the horizon and Suga had woken up with a bad taste in his mouth and horrible bedhead, dark circles under his eyes. He had woken up with that damned summer cold that was going around work and he had groaned and fallen back into bed… before making up his mind under the delirium of a slight fever.

He would take Daichi’s advice. He would go and at least talk to Oikawa. Besides, what harm could a little talking do? They needed to clear the air. They needed to address the issue before it spiraled any further out of control.

Suga needed to tell Oikawa that he had enjoyed their time together… but that it wouldn’t work out. Even if Iwaizumi had been right, wasn’t the actual saying "opposites attract"?

Suga had surely and efficiently buried all of his worries under a giant mug of tea and honey — courtesy of his favorite café — and a heavy dose of cold medicine. He had stumbled into work half-drunk on antihistamines, acetaminophen, and sleep loss…

… and here he was. Grumbling to himself like a madman in front of the crappy, wheezing coffee machine while poor Yamaguchi and Yachi skillfully avoided his disgruntled gaze. Even Hinata had stayed out of Suga’s way this morning.

Suga squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fend off the overwhelming wave of dizziness that suddenly overtook him when he turned to the door, his styrofoam cup clutched tenaciously between his pale fingertips. He could do this.

He could _do_ this.

_Better to rip the bandaid off quickly, right? Better to just get this over with so Daichi and his definite more-than-friend Iwaizumi will get off my back and focus on their own ridiculously-cute, rom-com material, stuff-of-musicals love life that I’m not jealous of at all._

With a determined frown Suga didn’t really feel fully, he left the break room of the fifth floor and walked slowly to the elevators. 

_Maybe I should’ve taken off today_ , some voice in his head reasoned but Suga shoved it away. He didn’t _need_ to take a day off. He needed to talk to Oikawa.

A little congestion and some head pressure didn’t constitute a valid reason to miss a full day of work… especially not when he had such an important task ahead of him.

Swaying on his feet, Suga gritted his teeth and pushed at the button to the top floor. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His gaze felt sticky and blurred whenever he blinked, but he leaned against one shiny wall of the elevator and felt a little less dizzy.

The top floor seemed so far away as the lights flashed on the wall, counting the levels as the elevator went up. Suga closed his eyes. He could close his eyes for a little bit, right? He just needed to rest a little.

_Just a little bit…_

The elevator skidded to a stop and Suga’s eyes snapped back open. Everything hurt. His head, his eyes, the back of his throat. His fingers were trembling around his styrofoam coffee cup when he raised it to his lips to take a painful, dry sip.

Maybe a day off was a good idea after all.

Still, he had made it this far — and the elevator doors were swishing open onto plush cream carpet and expensive wallpaper and Suga could see Iwaizumi sitting at the desk outside of Oikawa’s office. His head was bowed over something on his desk so it wasn’t too late for Suga to push the down button and disappear…

… but he felt his feet move forward instead.

With a little swallow and some fervent blinking to clear the dots swimming in his field of vision, Suga walked towards Iwaizumi. A few moments later, the secretary was looking up and then doing a double take when he saw Suga.

"Hey," the other man greeted when Suga got within earshot. "Sugawara-san, are you -"

"I’m fine," Suga said with as bright of a smile as he could muster. He felt sick now and not just because of his summer cold. His hands were all gross and clammy with nerves. He was actually doing this. "Is Oikawa-san in?"

For a moment, Suga thought Iwaizumi was going to argue his point. He was obviously noting how red Suga’s nose was, how flushed he must be if the crawl of heat over Suga’s own cheeks was anything to go by. Suga’s entire head felt ten times heavier than usual and the cold medicine he had choked down earlier this morning with his breakfast must’ve been wearing off because he hadn’t felt this bad a few hours ago.

Thankfully, Iwaizumi just nodded and then pushed a button on his desk. "Go on in," he said. "He has a meeting in an hour."

Sugawara nodded his head, ignoring the way Iwaizumi’s lips twitched like they had yesterday afternoon… his eyes were too bright too and Suga had a fleeting suspicion that maybe Iwaizumi-san wasn’t always as no-nonsense as he seemed to be. There was definitely a mischievous streak hidden under all of that muscle and those intimidating eyebrows.

Regardless, that was the last thing on Suga’s mind as he moved past the desk. 

Right now his heart was hammering so fast against his ribcage that he thought he was going to vomit it up. Right now he felt so on edge with nerves and anticipation and the high of cold medicine in his veins that he thought his knees were going to give out fully. They felt like jelly, quivering under his weight.

Right now he was pushing open Oikawa’s office door and slipping through the gap slowly, bracing himself for what was on the other side…

Oikawa was working.

Suga let the door shut quietly behind him and then it was quiet apart from the sticky thud of his heart in his ears and the scratch of a pen as Oikawa wrote something across a sheet of paper. Suga tried to speak but then paused.

Oikawa didn’t look up. He hadn’t even heard Suga come in, the other realized.

For a moment Suga stood by the door and just stared. He couldn’t help it. He had no strength in him to wonder why either.

Oikawa’s head was bowed over his desk, dark curls catching the lights in the office and shining chocolate-brown. From here Suga could just make out one of his hands moving quickly over a document with a ballpoint pen, his long, elegant fingers curled around it carefully. Oikawa paused a moment later and the tip of the pen went up, pushed to the pout of his lips as his eyelashes fluttered and he thought silently about whatever he was working on before scribbling furiously again.

Suga felt a crackle and a fizz in his chest, a small swell of pride, watching the other man work so diligently. Oikawa was laser-focused, eyes never glancing up once from his work.

_You’re both afraid of failure._

Suga swallowed. Maybe Iwaizumi had been more right than Suga wanted to admit right now but still… something about the sight of Oikawa so intent and serious in his clean-cut suit had Suga’s heart doing a weird skip in his chest — fizzing and spitting and colorful, watery.

Suga cleared his throat.

Oikawa’s head snapped up like a pinball machine. Suga half-expected to hear the other man’s neck crack at the impact… but all that really happened was that Oikawa’s eyes went wide and round, like saucers, and his mouth fell open the moment he realized who else was in his office.

"Kous-," he started, voice high-pitched with surprise before he snapped his mouth closed. Right before his eyes, Suga watched Oikawa school his face back to its usual charming facade, as simple as snapping his fingers — easy smile, relaxed shoulders, those eyes that hid way too much. "Sugawara-san. What a surprise." 

Suga resisted the urge to laugh despite his own clammy skin and trembling knees and stuffed nose. Did Oikawa know just how endearing the flush at the tops of his cheekbones was? How no matter how hard he tried to look unsurprised and suave, there was still that distant blush on his face at being caught unaware?

It clashed so wonderfully with the calm laziness and power Oikawa tried so hard to exude. Suga snorted… or he tried to. What came out instead was a strangled cough. 

_Damn it_ , he found himself thinking, averting his face away from Oikawa so that he could cough in the privacy of his own elbow. _Way to start this off._

Eventually the fit died down. Suga’s throat ached and his chest was tight and congested but he managed a shaky smile anyway.

"Oikawa-san," he rasped out thirty seconds too late. Oikawa was standing now, Suga saw, moving halfway around his desk before he seemed to realize what he was doing just as much as Suga did and stopped. 

The two of them stared at each other. 

Suga could only imagine what he looked like — pale lips and flushed cheeks — but at least Oikawa wasn’t being prissy about Suga’s use of the honorific or rushing over to pat him on the back.

"Uh -," Suga started, wincing at the croak in his voice, "if you’re busy I can come back lat-"

"No," Oikawa interrupted before biting his lip and smiling that stupid, fake smile. Maybe he was nervous, Suga thought. After all, their last meeting hadn’t gone so smoothly. "No, it’s okay. I just finished. I’m all yours." Oikawa leaned on the side of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest, purring the last sentence with a practiced air of self-bravado. Morning sunlight caught the edges of his hair and made them burn.

Suga resisted the urge to roll his eyes so he hummed and then nodded instead. He clutched his clammy fingers behind his back and rocked on his heels and tried to think past the stupid fuzziness of his brain to remember where he had wanted to start. 

He had practiced his speech so many times in his head this morning — dead-set on _not_ saying the wrong thing this time — that now it had blurred and melted. All he could see was Oikawa’s stupid hair — golden-brown in the light from outside.

_Soft_ , Suga remembered distantly. There was an odd ringing now in his ears. The room was starting to look fuzzy around the edges too, just like his thoughts.

Oikawa’s hair had been so soft. 

Suga remembered that much over the burning heat trapped under his skin and the splitting headache. Oikawa’s hair had been smooth and soft and so lovely against Suga’s fingers, falling effortlessly back into place as he had stroked through it gently, Oikawa curled around him.

Oikawa said something now. Suga heard it but it was far away and muffled, like he was sinking below water and Oikawa was up on the surface.

God, Suga felt so hot. Why was he so hot? Sweat curved down Suga’s spine, settled in the dip of his back. At the same time, there was a chill to his fingertips… alternating waves of hot and cold. 

He felt like laying down. Maybe Oikawa wouldn’t mind so much if Suga just laid down, closed his eyes for a little bit. He wouldn’t, right?

It would be nice to lay down. Then Suga could drift off and maybe his head wouldn’t hurt so much and his knees wouldn’t feel so trembly and that horrible pressure behind his eyes would go away…

Suga blinked. Once. Twice. Oikawa was closer now. _When had he moved?_ Suga thought sluggishly.

"Koushi." 

Oikawa’s mouth was moving again. This time Suga’s head cleared enough that he caught it, that sliver of syllables that made up his name. They sounded so nice in Oikawa’s deep, smooth voice. 

"Hey, hey, hey," Oikawa continued and now the other man was close enough that Suga could make out the minor creases in his suit — little, mini earthquake rifts in the navy blue fabric. He could see the flecks of gold in Oikawa’s eyes, like his hair.

"I’m okay," Suga muttered stubbornly past chapped lips, swiping at the sweat on his brow. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Stupid summer cold. Stupid staying up all night tossing and turning in bed. Stupid cold medicine that obviously wasn’t doing its job.

Suga was so tired — so, so tired. He couldn’t think straight. He had to talk to Oikawa. They had to sit down and talk like the adults they were so that they could both move on.

The problem was Suga felt more like throwing up right now than speaking. He clamped his lips together and straightened his shoulders as best as he could…

… but the moment he stepped farther into the office and opened his mouth, a wave of dizziness — larger than all the others — came out of nowhere.

The sunlight puddled and dripped through the windows, gooey and soft like honey. Oikawa’s mouth was moving again but the ringing in Suga’s ears had swelled to white noise, all-encompassing. 

Suga knew he needed to tell Oikawa he was alright. He needed to -

Suga’s knees gave out without warning. One moment he was swaying on his feet and the next the room tilted and dipped and Suga could feel himself going down… down under that giant wave of nothing…

Oikawa’s office went dark before Suga even hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only two chapters left for these idiots to figure things out, pray for them
> 
> blog --> [i love new followers for my oisuga hell hole :)](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)


	6. Saturday

Someone had beaten him. Someone had taken a baseball bat and hit him all over, Suga was sure of it. Everything _hurt_.

His eyes were so heavy that Suga didn’t even want to try to open them. He was drenched in a cold sweat — which was beyond gross — and every inch of him felt like it had been hit by a mack truck and then tossed into a pen full of angry goats that had trampled him all over with sharp, cloven hooves.

Still, the need to know where he was — because he didn’t remember going to bed and this was most certainly his bed he was lying on — was strong enough for Suga to crank his eyes open, just a bit…

… just enough to see a pair of very familiar curtains over a window swim into view. Those were his curtains. Asahi had helped him pick those cream drapes that afternoon he’d visited from Tokyo.

That was Suga’s bedroom wall too — eggshell white and scattered over with pinned up polaroids, little scraps of sticky notes, concert tickets and colorful bar passes.

Sucking in a breath, Suga shifted so that he was no longer on his side half-drowning in a puddle of his own drool on his pillow. The small movement was enough to send a flare of pain through his aching skull.

Groaning quietly, he managed to finally fall onto his back and then he laid there and caught his breath. Eventually the pain in his head subsided enough for him to think.

He was home. How had he gotten _home_? This was his futon and those were his curtains but hadn’t he just been at work? Hadn’t he just -

The memories from before bloomed up all at once. It was amazing, really, how the brain could recollect such vivid memories…

… and vivid they were — a flare of golden sunlight and chocolate-brown, soft hair and a voice, low and deep and worried…

"Oh _fuck_." 

In his sudden, abject horror, Suga tried to sit up… and then instantly regretted it. His bedroom spun sickeningly and it kind of felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest so he ended up flopping back into a sweaty mess on the futon, clamping his lips together to keep his stomach from rolling out of his mouth. His hands were trembling, fingers fisting into the laundry-soft sheets.

Still, even over the nausea and dehydration, Suga remembered. He had _fainted_. He had passed out… and in front of none other than Oikawa.

_How embarrassing_ , Suga thought, the words like static in his foggy brain. _Fuck._

A flush of mortification warmed his clammy, cold skin, but as Suga let his weak body sink back down into the mattress and sleep crept steadily up on him once more he could only think one other thing.

_Had Oikawa caught me?_

———————————-

The next time Suga woke up, the light outside of his curtains was different. It wasn’t the glow of morning or afternoon. It was stark white, clean-cut and fake. 

_Streetlight_ , Suga recognized dimly as his body stirred against tangled sheets.

As the sleep slowly cleared again, Suga also realized that he felt better. A _lot_ better. The sweat from where his fever must have broken had dried and even though he was sticky and his hair clung to his temples, Suga’s body was no longer racked with aches. He was mostly thirsty, his tongue like sandpaper in his mouth… and hungry. His stomach was pinched tight, begging for something warm and comforting.

Mustering whatever strength he had left in his noodle-like arms, Suga pushed himself up to sit against his wall. It was easier said than done but eventually he was resting back against a few pillows, propped up enough to see his bedroom door and the lightly-lit living room beyond.

_Is someone here?_ Suga thought. Someone had to have brought him home… and surely said person wouldn’t have just left either while Suga burned up with what must’ve been more than just a summer cold.

_Maybe it’s Daichi_ , he continued to muse. The thought filled him with an odd sort of disappointment — a feeling Suga shook off quickly. 

Of course it could very well be Daichi. Daichi had the spare key to Suga’s apartment and his honorary snack drawer in Suga’s kitchen. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d had to drag Suga home either — they’d both experienced countless nights of Daichi hefting Suga over a shoulder when he got too drunk or too tired to go back on his own, or vice versa.

_But you hope it was actually Toor -_ , Suga’s traitorous mind began to whisper… right before a loud clattering came from the direction of his kitchen.

Suga’s heart leapt into his throat. It sounded like a dish had hit the floor, or maybe something like a knife. So someone was definitely in there then.

Fisting his fingers into his sheets, Suga summoned up all of his courage and then cleared his throat very loudly. It was painful but then there was shuffling from the other room and a shadow falling across Suga’s bedroom doorway and -

Daichi’s face popped into view. 

Suga sighed a single breath of relief… and ignored the twinge in his chest that maybe, possibly, may have been because he had been expecting to see brown hair instead of black… a cocky, proud grin instead of a soft, relieved one.

"Hey," Daichi greeted, stepping fully into the room so that Suga could see the apron tied around his waist. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Suga pushed the heel of his hand into his right eye and then smiled genuinely at his best friend. Seeing Daichi in his apron only confirmed that the other had probably been trying to make something for Suga to eat and the gesture — as always — made affection curl warm and soft in Suga’s chest.

"No," he answered. God, he sounded horrible. His voice was all scratchy and thin. "No, you’re okay. I just woke up."

Daichi came farther in and then sat on the edge of Suga’s mattress. "Okay good. How’re you feeling?"

Suga sighed. He pushed his sweaty, tangled hair up from off of his face. "Just give it to me straight, Dai. What happened? I remember a little bit but…"

He trailed off. His heart was going really fast. Had it really been as bad as he kept remembering?

Oikawa’s face had been the last thing Suga had seen — he must’ve hit Oikawa’s floor like a sack of potatoes and the mental image made him wince…

… but Daichi laughed and Suga’s eyes flickered up from his patterned bedspread, curious.

"Oh Kou, you have no idea."

Suga frowned petulantly and Daichi backtracked quickly, sensing his friend’s distress.

"No, no, not like that. Just, hear me out. But wait a second. I still have the rice porridge on the stove. Let me go fix you some."

"I need to showe-," Suga started to protest but Daichi gave him a firm look and stood up. 

"You’re going to eat or I’ll force-feed you," the other man threatened. His dark brows furrowed, mouth setting in a serious line. "A strong wind could blow you away, you’re so thin. And your fever just broke this morning."

"But Dai -," Suga whined and Daichi rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I swear, you turn five sometimes."

Then he was gone from the room and Suga was left to pout at an empty space. He sighed, accepting defeat. He wasn’t sure if he could make it as far as across the room on his shaky legs anyway. His stomach growled as if to drive the point home.

A few minutes later Daichi was back and Suga had a steaming bowl of okayu in his lap. It smelled delicious even though it was simple. Daichi had even chopped up some green onions and they floated on top, enticing Suga to take more than one bite after his first.

"Thanks, Dai. You’re the best," he couldn’t help but mumble around the food. It felt good to have something in his stomach, easing out the emptiness.

He felt sleepy too, lulled by the warmth of the broth and his futon below him… but Daichi still hadn’t explained, even after Suga had swallowed three whole mouthfuls.

"Well," Daichi started — with another eye roll — when Suga prompted him with a look and a jab of his spoon, "you obviously had more of a flu than a summer cold. Like I said, your fever just broke this morning."

"Wait," Suga said, already interrupting. "What’s today?"

"Saturday," Daichi answered without missing a beat. "You were out all of yesterday afternoon and today. The doctor said you just needed rest and food once you woke up, so I let you sleep."

Suga didn’t know what to make of that. He hadn’t realized it had been so long. 

_Did Oikawa come to visit?_

Suga shoved the idea away forcibly, taking a hot mouthful of food too quickly and hissing.

Daichi gave him a look but then continued with his story. "So I get a call from Hajim- Iwaizumi-san…"

Suga raised an eyebrow teasingly but his cheeks were full and Daichi rushed onwards before he could be interrogated, clearing his throat.

"… and he said you had fainted and that Oikawa-san was driving you to the hospital. By the time I got up there, you two were already gone. Apparently Oikawa-san _carried_ you out of the building to his car."

"Oh shut up," Suga choked out over the grains of rice suddenly stuck in his throat. Daichi was grinning from ear to ear, smug as a cat with a mouse. He didn’t even pause to help Suga not suffocate on the okayu.

"And by the time I got to the hospital, you had already been hooked up to a line for dehydration and you won’t guess where _Oikawa_ was…"

Suga was suddenly not enjoying the rendition of his escapade that he remembered nothing of. He felt his face grow hot under Daichi’s knowing eyes before he realized that his so-called best friend was actually waiting for Suga to guess.

"Flirting at the nurse’s station?" Suga bit out snidely… even though he knew that that couldn’t be true, just based off of Daichi’s expression. His heart pounded in his ears.

Daichi snorted. "Yeah, cause that’s where I’d be too if my boyfriend was hooked up to an IV and unconscious."

"He’s not my _boyfriend_ ," Suga growled but Daichi held up a hand and then carried on without mercy or shame.

"He was sitting in a chair by the edge of your bed… _holding your hand_. And I swear to God, Kou, I have never seen that man look so lost or worried as he did before he realized I was there. Then he just snapped up, obviously embarrassed, quipped some dumbass line at me about failing to uphold my best friend duties, and disappeared… until he showed up here."

Suga choked on his own spit this time instead of the okayu. 

He was well aware how his mouth was flapping open and closed too, like a fish gasping for breath… but the words didn’t come and Daichi wasn’t stopping anytime soon at this point. He had the most self-satisfied, annoying expression to cherry-top the shock whizzing sugary-sweet through Suga’s veins.

"I just got him to go home, Kou. He’s been here since _yesterday_. He helped me clean the place up, cook you food for when you woke up, get you cool cloths. He passed out on the couch a few hours ago so I made him go home to take a shower and get some rest."

There was a beat of quiet — just silence until all Suga could hear was the thud of his heartbeat in his ears.

Then… "You’re shitting me, Sawamura. Good one. You got me."

Suga took another bite, still chuckling under his breath. It was a joke. That’s all this was. Some ploy that Daichi and most likely Iwaizumi-san had cooked up together for no other reason than to torture Suga and his poor heart. It _was_ currently going at a good, heart attack-inducing rate.

"Kou -"

"Nope. No. I caught you. It’s over. It was well-played out, I’ll give you guys that."

"Koushi -"

"I mean, really? How’d you guys plan it out? Was it when I was passed out? Cause that makes perfect -"

"SUGAWARA."

Suga’s mouth snapped shut. He refused to look up at Daichi, instead opting to stare down into his bowl. A slice of green onion floated peacefully by in the following silence.

"Suga," Daichi finally said once more, this time softer and less exasperated. "I’m not lying. This isn’t a joke. I wouldn’t mess with your emotions like that. You know that."

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Suga’s neck. He stayed silent.

The worst part… the worst part was that he knew Daichi was right. Daichi would never, _ever_ do something like that to him.

Which meant… which meant Oikawa _had_ held his hand while Suga had laid unconscious on a hospital bed.

Which meant Oikawa had been _here_ , in Suga’s apartment. Which meant he had cleaned and cooked and helped Daichi take care of Suga while he slept until Oikawa himself had passed out from sheer exhaustion.

"Shit." The word dropped softly from Suga’s lips and then hung in the air, just there for Daichi to do what he wanted with it…

… which was to stay silent and let Suga process until he could look up from his broth and meet his best friend’s eyes.

"Shit, Dai," Suga repeated. This was a mess. A huge, gigantic, tangled, complicated mess. Suddenly the words couldn’t fall fast enough from Suga’s lips.

"What am I supposed to do? What if I let him come back? What if it turns into something other than sex and we’re both super happy and then something goes wrong and we hate each other? I mean, you _know_ my parents. You know what I grew up with. What if -"

“Koushi,” Daichi interrupted once more, gentle and firm. “Hold on a second. Just answer this question, okay?"

Suga swallowed. He took a breath. “Okay."

Daichi smiled and it crinkled up his warm brown eyes and Suga knew his answer before Daichi even asked. 

"Do you think he’s worth the chance? Do you like him enough to at least take a chance? To be _different_ than your parents?”

As the sun grew lower in the sky and the walls turned honey-gold and Daichi’s presence reminded Suga that not all vulnerability was bad — after all, where would Suga be without his best friend to listen to his deepest worries? — Suga finally got it.

He finally knew.

Win or lose, the biggest mistake would be to never play the game at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (did i just add in a half-built backstory of suga's parents being the cause of his fear of commitment in the next-to-last chapter of this fic? maybe...)
> 
> next up: a sunday finale
> 
> [bloggggg](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)


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